


Viewing Pleasure

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF, Hornblower RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 10-7-06 and 3-14-07</p>
    </blockquote>





	Viewing Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 10-7-06 and 3-14-07

Ioan glanced up at the screen then back down at the bar. Pulling the second beer in front of him, he signaled the bartender and indicated the empty seat next to him. “He’s going to need something stronger.” He looked over the bottles and gestured toward a single malt. “Make it a triple, yeah?”

A few moments later a hand grazed along Ioan’s shoulders and then Jamie sat beside him, his eyebrow raised. “That bad?”

“You’ve really not seen anything? No ads? Promos? Anything? No idea how you look?”

“Nope. Avoiding everything.”

Ioan pushed the drink toward him. “That bad.”

Jamie took a sip and closed his eyes against the burn. Setting his glass down, he glanced up at the screen, watched a bad representation of the Queen piss and moan about Dr. Who. He could feel Ioan’s eyes on him and smiled, the familiar heat of his gaze as comforting as the alcohol. “So. My performance isn’t going to cut it as a birthday present?”

“Your performance is likely fine. However, they took you, looking like that and rather turned you into the most hideous creature.”

“Wow. You do now how to flatter a bloke, don’t you?”

“If I were trying to flatter you, I’d say something like, ‘you’ve lovely eyes, Jamie’. As it is, I’m trying to brace you for the horror that will send a million fangirls into all sort of shocked, pained spasms of grief.”

“I don’t have a million fangirls.”

“Fine, a thousand fangirls and that one creepy bloke that follows you around.”

“You?”

“The creepy bloke.”

“I told you it’s not nice to call Rennie names, you know.”

Ioan snorted a laugh and took a drink of his beer as Jamie took another sip of his whiskey. “He is creepy. But I was unaware he’d taken to following you around.” He rubbed his finger against the flat surface of the bar, casting a sidelong glance at Jamie. “Something I should know about?”

“N…” Jamie stopped, his eyes arrested by the television as a flash of red filled the screen. “Oh my…God.”

“I did warn you.”

“Oh, God. I knew it was bad, but oh my God.” He took another drink of the whiskey, his eyes on the scene, watching it with a mixture of rapt fascination and horror. “It’s horrifying.”

Ioan’s eyes darted to the screen and stopped there. He sucked in his breath and Jamie nearly choked as he swallowed the rest of his glass of whiskey. “Oh,” Ioan breathed. “That’s just not right.”

“Wait until you hear the dialogue that’s to come. The phrase heavy handed is going to take on new meaning.” He laughed and shook his head. “Christ. I really must find out what it was I did to Ron.”

“They’ve got good writers there, right? Surely they didn’t need you to physically manifest the symptoms of dysphoria, did they?” Ioan drained his beer and took a sip from the second. “I mean, that’s it, right? You’re unhappy so you’ve taken to eating all the rations on the ship?”

Jamie laughed softly and shook his head. “I would scare small children.”

“Oh, I think Kara’s to have one of those if the previews are correct. Perhaps you could frighten that one off.” 

Jamie reached over and grabbed Ioan’s beer, taking a long swallow. “You want to stay here and watch this? Because it’s going to get worse. There’s actually a scene where I’m popping small bread rolls or doughnuts or something into my mouth. I don’t know what they’re supposed to be, but it was the first doughnuts I’d actually had in ages, so it is, by far, my favorite scene ever, but it’s really only important if you haven’t figured out yet that I’m a pissy little wanker who’s upset that he’s got nothing to rebel against any more.”

“What’s the other option?”

Jamie smiled and raised an eyebrow. “We go home.”

Ioan looked up at the screen then back at Jamie then back to the screen. “Are you going to be pretty again before the two hours is over?”

“No.”

“In that case,” Ioan drained the second beer, “let’s go home.”

Jamie got to his feet and fell in step with Ioan as they made their way out of the pub. “So, you’d not fancy me if I was fat?”

“I’d fancy you if you weighed several hundred pounds and couldn’t get out of your chair,” Ioan informed him with a sly smile. “However, since that’s not the case, I figure I should take advantage of what you’ve got while you’ve got it.”

“You do, do you?”

“And,” he stopped and leaned against his car, enjoying the cool breeze and the flush of heat from Jamie as he stepped close, “I saw that pack of doughnuts you bought the other day, and I think I should hide them.”

“Don’t you dare touch my doughnuts.”

Ioan ran a finger over the front of Jamie’s jeans, licking his lips. “You’ve always liked it when I’ve touched them before. Besides,” he unlocked his car and then held the keys out to Jamie. “It’s my birthday. I should get to touch whatever I want.”

**

Ioan leaned against the porch railing and watched as Jamie unlocked the door He watched the easy movement of Jamie’s body, the whiskey-loosened limbs as he turned the knob, pushing the door open. He glanced back at Ioan and raised an eyebrow.

“Waiting for an invitation?” Jamie asked.

“Watching you. Trying to figure out how they could do that to you.”

“It’s just make-up.”

“It’s shoddy writing and, believe you me, I know shoddy writing, as I’ve not only ‘starred’ in Fantastic Four, but its sequel.” He shook his head. “They let other people kill Cylons with forks and you…”

Jamie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Ioan? Can we just both agree that it’s a sad turn of events and get to the celebrating part of the night?”

Ioan glanced over at him, then closed the distance between them, pushing Jamie back against the wall. His hands curved around the arch of Jamie’s shoulders, holding him to the pale blue surface. “Not a sad turn of events, love, it’s character assassination.” He tilted his head, changing his view slightly, then leaned in and brushed his lips over Jamie’s. “It’s not right.”

“They sign the paychecks, Ioan. They get to do what they want.” Jamie closed his eyes slightly, his lashes glancing against his cheeks, his lips parting against the promise of Ioan’s kiss. “Just the magic of television.” Jamie caught Ioan’s hand and smoothed it down the flat plane of his stomach. “Not real.”

“Fucking crime,” Ioan assured him, catching Jamie’s lower lip and sucking on it before stealing a quick kiss from his parted lips. The hand on Jamie’s stomach slid further down, tugging his t-shirt from his jeans and splaying over the bare skin beneath. “Mmm. Missed you.”

“Hey.” Jamie caught Ioan’s hand and guided him back, walking toward him until Ioan felt the back of the couch against his upper thighs. “Your birthday.”

“I know.” Ioan reached out and caught at Jamie’s waistband again. “So gimme my present.”

“In good time.” Jamie laughed and caught Ioan’s wrists again, holding them loosely in his hands. “Greedy and impatient. I think someone’s angling for a birthday spanking.”

Ioan returned his laugh, low and husky. “Promises, promises, Bamber.”

“You are,” Jamie assured him, stepping forward and insinuating himself along Ioan’s long, lithe body, “the kinkiest bastard I’ve ever had occasion to meet.”

Ioan tilted his head to the side as Jamie’s mouth ran along his neck. He shifted his hips, letting Jamie settle more securely against him, the swell of Jamie’s cock against his own. “That’s…” he paused as Jamie’s teeth grazed a sensitive patch of skin, “a compliment, right?”

“You think so, obviously.” His laugh was warm on Ioan’s skin, his fingers tugging Ioan’s t-shirt free from his jeans. “So.” He licked the skin above Ioan’s collar before pulling back, easing the T-shirt up and off Ioan’s body. “What do you want for your birthday?”

Ioan groaned and rolled his hips forward, pressing hard against Jamie’s body. “Thought that was obvious.”

Jamie trailed his fingers down Ioan’s stomach, tracing patterns through the triangle of dark hair that disappeared into his jeans. “New socks?”

“Yeah, Bamber.” Ioan’s voice shifted, deepening. “The pair you’ve got stuffed down your shorts.”

Jamie laughed. “Trust me, that’s one area the make-up department didn’t need to pad.” He let his fingers slide lower, dipping just under the waistband of Ioan’s jeans, his nails scraping against the warm, sensitive skin. Ioan shivered and his hips rolled forward again, his long lashes painting his cheeks. “Feel good?”

“Yes,” he breathed, leaning in and stealing a kiss from Jamie’s lips. “Just not good enough.”

“Everybody’s a critic.” Jamie teased his lips over Ioan’s shoulder as his thumbs traced the smooth leather of Ioan’s belt. “You want more?”

Ioan’s head fell back for a moment then he brought it back down, finding Jamie’s mouth, nipping at Jamie’s lower lip with his teeth. “Gonna make me beg for my own damn present, Bamber?”

“Mmm,” Jamie muttered against Ioan’s lips, the sound reverberating against his skin. “Like it when you beg.”

Ioan huffed a laugh, the sound thick with hunger. “Please, Bamber?” He nuzzled Jamie’s lips, licking the parted flesh, grazing his tongue along Jamie’s. “Pretty, pretty…” Ioan’s breath caught as Jamie unfastened his belt, slid his zipper down. “Oh…” He groaned and arched up into Jamie’s hand as it settled over his cock. “Please.”

Jamie shook his head, easing back, away from Ioan. Ioan growled low in his throat, not moving from his position, sprawled along the back of the couch, his legs spread invitingly. Reaching out, Jamie traced the vee of Ioan’s jeans, following the fabric framing Ioan’s arousal where it was pressed firmly against the material of his boxer-briefs. “What should I do with you, I wonder.”

“You want a list of ideas?” Ioan offered, his eyes half closed as he watched Jamie’s hand movie. “I have a huge one.”

“Braggart,” Jamie teased as he trailed his fingers along Ioan’s shaft. 

Ioan laughed, the sound far huskier than normal. “That’s not what I me…”

“Notice I didn’t say liar,” Jamie went on, trailing his hand up to Ioan’s shirt, his fingers catching the hem as he brought his other hand into play, easing the material up Ioan’s torso and tugging it over his head. Ioan shivered slightly, swallowing hard as Jamie’s hands skirted his stomach and chest, barely glancing over his flesh.

His hips rolled forward again of their own volition. “C’mon, Jamie. Please.”

“All in good time, Gruffudd.” Jamie smiled and traced his fingers over Ioan’s shoulders, sliding them down his arms. He threaded their fingers then leaned in, stealing a kiss from Ioan’s mouth. Ioan groaned against him, arching forward, seeking contact, the groan turning to a growl as Jamie chuckled and pulled back. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”

“Bastard,” Ioan huffed, a thread of need lacing his voice. “C’mon, Bamber. It’s been ages.”

“Has it now?” Jamie released Ioan’s hands and let his fingers slide along the loose waistband of Ioan’s jeans for a moment, grazing skin before he pushed the denim down, catching Ioan’s boxer briefs as well and tugging both to the floor. He sank down on his knees in front of Ioan and looked up at him, lips parted and curved into a smile. “That why you’re so hard for me?”

“Fuck…Jamie…” Ioan’s voice was hot, almost as hot as his skin as Jamie touched him, curving his hand around Ioan’s cock and stroked it slowly. Ioan made a low sound and shivered, eyes nearly closing, but not enough that Jamie couldn’t see the desire dark in them. “Please.”

Jamie took Ioan in his mouth, sliding his lips and tongue along the hard flesh. He could barely hear Ioan’s response in that first moment, the hiss of his breath, past the blood pounding in his ears. Ioan was right, it had been a long time, and as familiar as the slide and taste of skin was, it was always like the first time and Jamie couldn’t help but remember cold nights in the middle of nowhere made warm with faint and then fervent touches, exploring each other. He remembered the first time he did this, the first time for everything.

His mouth moved along Ioan’s cock, sucking and licking and tasting, salt and sweat and heat on his tongue. He slid his hands up Ioan’s thighs, stroking the muscled flesh, dark hair brushing against his palm as they moved up to Ioan’s hips, curving around the jut of bone and holding him, pinning him to the couch and refusing to let him move, refusing to let Ioan’s thrusts dictate anything beyond the slow, steady rhythm Jamie had chosen to torment him with.

“F-fuck,” Ioan’s voice was breathless, heavy and hungry as it fell past his lips, nearly as insistent as his hands as they scraped across Jamie’s scalp and neck, nails scratching through Jamie’s short hair. “Jamie. Jesus.”

He laughed softly, the noise reverberating against Ioan’s skin. Ioan shuddered, hips jerking forward, and his fingers tightened almost painfully. Jamie refused to relent, teasing at Ioan’s flesh, letting it all build until Ioan’s voice blended into a low string of murmured pleas and Jamie couldn’t resist any longer, taking him deeper, feasting on the hard flesh.

Ioan gasped as he came, whispering in Welsh as always. Jamie got to his feet slowly, licking his lips like a cat feasted on cream, and leaned in, sharing the hot taste with Ioan. Ioan groaned hungrily, sucking on Jamie’s tongue as eagerly as Jamie had taken Ioan deep. “Want you,” Ioan whispered, breaking the kiss long enough to breathe. “So much, Jamie. Please.” Even spent, his hips thrust forward, his hands at Jamie’s arse, urging him closer. 

Jamie bit at Ioan’s lower lip, sucking on it for a moment before pulling back. His voice was gruff and hard, thick with want. “Turn ‘round.”

Ioan’s movements were jerky as he turned, his hands curving around the back of the couch. Jamie trailed his fingers down Ioan’s spine, watching him shiver, unable to help the low chuckle from slipping past his lips. 

“Want me, Ioan?”

“F-fuck, Jamie. Please.” Ioan’s voice cracked slightly on the last word.

Jamie laughed again, soft and light as he slid his hands lower to stroke the curve of Ioan’s arse. “So perfect, Ioan. Just ripe for those birthday spankings.” Ioan groaned and buried his face against the back of the couch as Jamie slapped Ioan’s arse lightly. “How old now?”

“Thirty…thirty-three.”

“Old man,” Jamie teased, slapping him again.

“You’re going to fucking kill me before I make it to thirty-four, Bamber. Please.”

Jamie laughed in earnest, slapping Ioan’s arse once more before pulling away. Ioan groaned as Jamie moved back, turning his head to watch Jamie disappear into the other room. Ioan’s breath was loud, increasing as Jamie came back, stripped down to his boxer-briefs. 

“Want you, Jamie.” Ioan slid his hand along the back of the couch toward Jamie, palm up, offering invitation and surrender.

Jamie slid his palm up Ioan’s arm and then down his back, letting it slide even lower still. Ioan gasped, his breath catching as he closed his eyes. Pouring a healthy measure of lubricant on his fingers, Jamie grazed Ioan’s skin, smiling as Ioan hissed at the cool sensation, and then again as Jamie slid his fingers inside him, breaching him.

“God,” Ioan gasped, thrusting back hard against Jamie’s hand. Jamie groaned, burying the sound against Ioan’s back, his mouth moving over the skin, tasting the damp perspiration. “C’mon, Jamie. Please. More. C’mon.”

Jamie made a low sound deep in his throat, easing away from Ioan for the short time it took him to strip down his boxer-briefs and slide the condom on. He closed his eyes, pressing close to Ioan, reveling in the hard shudder Ioan gave as Jamie slid into him, thrusting deep and then stilling, leaving himself sheathed in Ioan’s heat.

“God, Ioan. So hot, so tight.” Jamie shifted his grip, hands tight on Ioan’s hips, pulling back before sliding hard and deep inside Ioan once again.

Ioan groaned, his back arching, his body thrusting hard back against Jamie, taking him deeper. “More.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, gasping roughly. “Please, Jamie, more. G-god.”

Jamie huffed a hot breath across Ioan’s skin, both of them shuddering hard as Jamie pushed deep again and again, finally stilling as his hands tightened, bruising Ioan’s tanned flesh as he came.

Jamie slumped down against Ioan, their bodies moving in unison as they breathed, chests rising and falling in tandem.

“So,” Jamie asked softly, tracing a salt-tinged line across Ioan’s shoulder with his tongue. “Happy birthday.”

Ioan laughed, his body shaking under Jamie’s. “Best present ever, mate.”

Jamie eased away, exhaling heavily. Ioan straightened, closing his eyes and leaning back, his back against Jamie’s chest as he moved in again, wrapping his arms lightly around Ioan’s waist. “Gets better.”

“Yeah?” Ioan asked, tilting his head as Jamie pressed a warm kiss to his neck. “How so?”

Jamie laughed against Ioan’s skin and pulled away. “We’re just in time to catch the re-airing of the season premiere.”


End file.
